233456
by Nighthawk5
Summary: Reality TV.. JAG style (it's funny, in a sarcastic sought of way)


A/N: Has anyone else noticed that after a certain amount of Maths homework all the numbers start looking the same? (For all who can't tell, I'm doing what I do best: avoiding doing homework.) I just had the insane urge to write JAG like a reality TV episode. what if H&M were looked in a room together for 23.3456 hours?  
  
Disclaimers: I don't own Harm and Mac, if I did, they'd be happily married with kids by now, or they'd be dead. I don't own the Big Brother voice. I don't own Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous by Good Charlotte. I don't own Twinkle Twinkle little Star or Mary Had A Little Lamb. I don't own Cosmopolitan, and completely diss the magazine in a sarcastic way in this fic. If you have a problem with Cosmo-bashing, you have been warned. I don't own any of the political figures mentioned in this story. I do, however, own all the cracks in the ceiling, the lint/dust on the floor, the shitty decor of the room and the 900 tiles on the floor. they kick ass.  
  
(text)- denotes action  
  
{text}- denotes thought  
  
"text"- surprisingly enough, denotes speech  
  
* * * * *  
  
"Mac, if you don't stop pacing like a caged lion, I'll go crazy watching you."  
  
"You're watching me pace up and down? You must be bored."  
  
"In case you didn't notice, there's not a lot of entertainment in here."  
  
"That's why I'm pacing."  
  
"Sit down woman!"  
  
She glared at him, but complied with his request, "This really sucks."  
  
"Amen to that."  
  
"Why can't we just leave?"  
  
"Because we're locked in."  
  
"You know, that piece of lint on the floor there looks blue, but if you look closely, it's actually green," Mac informed him idly.  
  
"That's interesting."  
  
"And there are 900 tiles on the floor."  
  
"And 25 cracks in the ceiling," he finished.  
  
"No, I was going to say that we've been here for a whole 4 hours and 15 seconds and there's actually 26 cracks, see that really small one in the corner over there?"  
  
"Oh yeah, now I see."  
  
"This really sucks."  
  
"Amen to that."  
  
"Why can't we just leave?"  
  
"Because we're locked in."  
  
"De ja vu. Are we repeating ourselves already?"  
  
"No, they just rewound the tape."  
  
"We could always have a.. conversation you know."  
  
"We could. or we could just sit here in comfortable silence and avoid a conflict."  
  
"Yeah, that's probably a good idea. We still have 19 hours, 45 minutes and 10 seconds in this room."  
  
"Do you think the paint matches the ceiling colours?"  
  
"I don't know. it's a weird colour in here."  
  
"Yeah."  
  
*35 minutes and 54 seconds of silence ensues*  
  
"You know we haven't spoken in 35 minutes and 54 seconds," Mac announced.  
  
"No I didn't know that."  
  
"That's why I told you."  
  
"Oh."  
  
"You know if you were famous you could kill your wife and there's no such thing as 25 to life as long as you've got the cash. to pay for Cochran. Did you know if you were caught and you were smoking crack, McDonald's wouldn't even wanna take you back? You could always just run for mayor of DC."  
  
Harm studies Mac strangely, "What?"  
  
"I've just got that song stuck in my head."  
  
"What is it?"  
  
"Well how should I know? I just heard it on the radio this morning and it's been in my head all day."  
  
"You've been in my head all day."  
  
She looked at him, "Really?"  
  
"No, I just thought I'd say that to see what your reaction was."  
  
She frowned a little in disappointment, "I don't think about you during the day. sometimes I have really weird dreams that you're in."  
  
"Do any of them involve me dying?"  
  
"No, but in one we were married and had two kids."  
  
"And you're psychic right?"  
  
"That wasn't a psychic dream."  
  
"Then what kind a dream was it?"  
  
"A wishful thinking dream."  
  
"This is getting dangerous."  
  
"Yeah, you think we should go back to traffic signals for the remaining 44 hours, 55 minutes and 23 seconds?"  
  
"I think we're past the traffic signals."  
  
"You never did tell me why female Marines were like Energiser batteries," she smiled.  
  
"It's like the why did the chicken cross the road joke. it's not funny. Especially not in the way your thinking."  
  
"So why didn't you just tell me?"  
  
"Because."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Because it was in the damn script OK?"  
  
"We're talking from a Script?"  
  
"Yeah, didn't you know that?"  
  
(Whispers) "Well I guess I knew, but in the script we're supposed to pretend we don't know we're reading from a script in this part."  
  
"Are we?"  
  
"Yeah stupid, if they know it's fake the ratings drop."  
  
"People didn't know this was fake?"  
  
"Hmm, well I think they must've.. A few impressionable schizophrenics aside."  
  
(voice from above, like in Big Brother)  
  
"Hey! You have to re-do that part. that wasn't in the script."  
  
"Ok."  
  
(sound like tape rewinding and squeaky high pitched voices)  
  
"We're talking from a Script?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"So why can't we just hurry up and get to the part where I tell you I love you?"  
  
"You tell me? I thought I told you."  
  
"Wait, you tell me you love me?"  
  
"Yeah, that's what I thought."  
  
"But why would you do that? Unless." (pauses thoughtfully) "Hey, do you love me?"  
  
"Yeah, duh, are you blind or something?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"Isn't it obvious?"  
  
She stares at him in disbelief, "You love me."  
  
"Yeah. I love you."  
  
"You love me," she squeals.  
  
"See I told them you'd be all girlie and not like all serious the way they had you in The Script."  
  
"What, you mean we stuffed The Script up again?"  
  
"Hey, shut up about The Script. he hasn't interrupted yet,"  
  
"Probably because he's having dinner, I'm hungry."  
  
"Uh oh."  
  
"HEY! DO WE GET FED IN THIS JOINT?"  
  
"Jesus Mac, don't yell."  
  
"But I'm hungry," she pouted.  
  
"Don't do that."  
  
"Do what?"  
  
"That?"  
  
"What this?" she inquired, pouting again.  
  
"Yeah that."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Because you look. miserable when you do that."  
  
"But I am miserable."  
  
"Wait a minute, I thought you were hungry."  
  
"I am!"  
  
"So, you can't be hungry and miserable at the same time."  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"Because. I can't deal with that much emotion at once Ok?"  
  
"I guess."  
  
(awkward silence)  
  
"So do you really love me?" she asks suddenly.  
  
"Um."  
  
"Or do you just, you know. pretend because its in The Script?"  
  
"Well, you see." (looks around for a distraction), "Hey, look at that speck of dust there."  
  
"Which one?.. I mean, don't stray from the topic. We're having a conversation here!"  
  
"Um, well...................... (looooooooooooonnnnnnggg pause) ............."  
  
"HARM!"  
  
"Huhwhat? You don't have to yell, I'm standing right here."  
  
"Sorry. I was just wondering if you fell asleep with your eyes open."  
  
(yawns and blinks) "No, would *I* do *that* in the middle of an *important* conversation with you?"  
  
"I seriously hope, for your sake you wouldn't."  
  
"Um yeah, so where were we?"  
  
"You were avoiding telling me something.um, that's right, you were going to tell me if you *really* loved me."  
  
"Oh."  
  
{Daminit Rabb, why couldn't you keep your mouth shut and stay awake?}  
  
"Haaaarrrrmmm."  
  
"Mac, stop whining."  
  
"Do you really love me?"  
  
"Um, how do I answer that question?"  
  
"Yes or no works for me."  
  
"Well it doesn't work for me. I sought of have to think of how to say this." (looks deep in thought, Mac meanwhile gets bored waiting for an answer and begins studying her nails and eventually pulls out Cosmo.)  
  
*5 hours later*  
  
(Harm's fallen asleep thinking and Mac's sleeping, complaining in her sleep she's hungry. they're both awoken by a loud crash caused by an unknown and unlikely to be explained reason)  
  
"What the hell?" Mac inquires, "Oh well." (Starts reading Cosmo again- "Friend or Friendlier?.How To Snag That Gorgeous Best Friend")  
  
"Huhwhat? Oh yeah, that's right I was thinking."  
  
"Mmm?" Mac replies, still reading (Step 1: Look utterly gorgeous yourself. men really can't resist women who flaunt every inch of skin they possibly can without breeching workplace health and safety regulations)  
  
"Oh nothing."  
  
"That's nice," Mac replies, *still* reading (Step 2: Do not let him get away with murder. Tell him how you feel... And make him tell you. Stripping very slowly is an effective way to extract this information. Alternatively, if you're a tough girl, or if you're just fat, you could beat it out of him, although Cosmopolitan magazine does not endorse assault.)  
  
(Harm starts.singing, which earns him an idea and an odd look from Mac)  
  
"Mary had a little lamb, little lamb, little lamb, Mary had a little lamb who's fleece was made of snow."  
  
"Are you Ok there?" Mac questions, looking up from Cosmo (Step 3: Learn our 52 sex positions for every week of the year. Men like a woman who knows her way around a bed. Pole dancing is also a new vogue.) [A/N: I read that in Cosmo at the hairdresser.]  
  
"Twinkle twinkle little star, how I wonder what you are."  
  
"Ok, I am really freaked out now."  
  
"So am I. I just figured out how to tell you this."  
  
(Mac looks left and right nervously, checking for an exit if things get dangerous.)  
  
"Sarah, I love you. I really love you. I've been falling in love with you since I met you." *dramatic music and sniggers from author*  
  
Mac stares at him in utter disbelief, "Are you drunk?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Who gave you drugs?"  
  
"No one."  
  
"Are you delirious?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Dehydrated?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Uh. then what's wrong?"  
  
"Nothing's wrong." (Harm looks confused)  
  
"Then why did you just admit you.. loved me." (It suddenly occurs to her he has just told her he loves her. Jumps up and throws arms around him. Cosmo is left open on the floor in the "How To. " sex special section, which, it must be noted, has been unsealed.)  
  
"I love you too!"  
  
"You can be so sweet sometimes," he sighs , deeply touched and seemingly oblivious to the fact that it was a standard reply. Looking over he shoulder he sees Cosmo.  
  
"Mac, what are you reading?"  
  
"Nothing," she replies, "I'm standing here with your arms around me."  
  
"Well what's that magazine behind you?"  
  
"Oh, that's just Cosmo. you can't actually *read* that silly." (She laughs.)  
  
"What's so funny?"  
  
"You actually thought you could read Cosmopolitan!"  
  
"Well why can't you?"  
  
"Well I suppose you could if you didn't have a brain. you can't make much sense of it if you do."  
  
"Mm, right, moving on."  
  
"Yes. So what happens now?"  
  
"Uh, I don't know."  
  
"Just wait, I'll check The Script.. " (pulls out the script) "Oh look, we have to make out insanely for 2 hours, then they let us out of here."  
  
"But wait a minute, that means we don't stay here for the full 23.3456 hours."  
  
"I know."  
  
"So why do they call it 23.3456?"  
  
"I have no idea. Let's just finish the script."  
  
"Ok."  
  
They happily proceed to make out and live happily ever after. the end.  
  
* * * * * *  
  
A/N: WelL Th@T w@s StRAAAAEEEEEEngGe.. Um, don't mind me, I'm just recovering from post standing-on-one-leg-like-a-chicken syndrome. (Uh, had second night of Air force Cadets last night. we did drill. No further comment.) I'll shut up now. Oh wait, review or I'll kill myself. Happy New Christmas. goodnight. (EEEEEEEHHEEEEHHHHHHEEEEE!) [And no, stupid cat, I am not drunk!- how insulting can pets be?] 


End file.
